This is a song about "Foreign whips"

Whips your back and leaves you with lifetime scars with no healing

I come in peace like uh, extraterrestrial being

You dead broke, yes folks, the jewels are like egg yolks

They talk about the foreign cars, bitches, and the finest clothes,

Damn... my levels foreign wheres ya passport

And gary coleman just passed: life is short

Fuck chains and whips, crazy shit really don't break us,

The critics are calling me conscious

Top ranked, number one my son

All my bitches be foreign

Driving my car to a foreign place

But i know i see better days

They're tryin to say that i don't care

Like whips n chains give me brain pull your hair

She'll do anything for me, nothing but hits

And grip whips to switch hits to each ribs